


Sometimes Taking the Wrong Path Still Leads to a Good Place

by ArtemiStorm



Series: Neopolis Canon Arc 1: Origins [1]
Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (Archie Comic), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Banishment, Bitterness, Character Development, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Feels, Gen, I'm Sorry, Journey, Mountains, Ocean, Origin Story, Redemption, Rotor is religious, Rotor makes mistakes, Snow and Ice, Tundra, parental loss, see author's note at the beginning, suddenly realized this fic is racially insensitive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:09:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23067124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemiStorm/pseuds/ArtemiStorm
Summary: Rotor Walrus: Origin StoryHow the heck did Rotor the Walrus, an arctic aquatic mammal far from home, find himself living in a tropical paradise? Also, why isn’t his name Boomer anymore?
Series: Neopolis Canon Arc 1: Origins [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1813618
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Apa is Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> *UPDATE* As I have become more racially aware recently, I have realized that this fic contains potentially offensive language and improper representation of First Nations peoples based on my uneducated, white-person point of view. When I wrote this story originally, I didn't intend to offend anyone so I apologize for my ignorance and insensitivity if I did. I do plan on reading and learning more about First Nations people (I've got a couple books lined up) and rewriting this fic in a more accurate and sensitive way. (I'm thinking of actually taking down this fic while I do that.)
> 
> If you have any good media sources that I can read/watch/listen to to learn more about First Nations Peoples, please comment and let me know. (I'm sorry! I'm trying to fix myself!)
> 
> P.S. I don't own Rotor or any Sonic the Hedgehog characters. They belong to SEGA. I'm only borrowing them.

Even though it was midnight, Boomer and his family didn’t need a lantern to ascend the slope. The snowy mountains seemed to glow in the rays of the setting moon and their path was clearly visible. To the west, the ridgeline sloped down into the flat, icy tundra where the village lay on the shore of the Kula Sea. The main street and houses were brightly lit by the warm glow of the celebratory bonfire around which walruses played music and danced. The night winds swept down from the mountains, joining the music and carrying it out to sea. The Alyeska Walrus Tribe rejoiced; the United North Army had defeated Robotnik’s invading force, preserving the freedom of Arctica. Everyone rejoiced, that is, except for Boomer, his little brother Dash, and their mother. They’d received word that morning: the battle had been won, but it came at a cost.

Boomer and Dash’s father, Kenai Alyeska, had been killed.

As the village made preparations for celebration, Boomer, his little brother, Dash, and their mother, whom they called Aka, make preparations to mourn. They collected a few supplies and headed up into the mountains together but alone to say their last goodbyes.

For Boomer, at first, grief came in fits and bursts, like the first spitting rains of a storm, but as they left the village, his grieving came in earnest. The tides of emotion in swelled and pounded against the seawall of his heart. He resisted, holding fast against the waves of confusion, sorrow, and anger, trying to remain strong for Dash and Aka.

Through much of the afternoon and long into the night, the lone family walked, trudging through the snow, deep at times, against the piercing wind, up and down the mounts of the ridgeline. Boomer was deeply tired. Dash’s strength was all but spent. The boys’ mother, whom they called Aka, was by far the strongest of the three, but Boomer could tell, even her strength was flagging. Even so, they didn’t stop.

Hidden in the snow, Dash’s foot hit a stone and he tumbled. He pushed himself up to a sitting position on the ground and stayed there, his head bent over as tears dripped off his face. Boomer trudged up behind him. He put his hands under Dash’s arms and lifted.

“Come one, Little Brother, on your feet,” he said. Dash threw his arm around his brother and leaned on him heavily. They continued their dogged struggle through the thigh-deep snow up the slope. Their mother was far ahead of them carrying a flat parcel wrapped in red cloth. Steadily, she trekked onward breaking up the snow crust for them with her powerful legs.

Boomer slipped on patch of ice and slid sideways down the western slope of the ridge. He dug his claws through the crusty layers of snow to the frozen earth below, stopping his fall. Dash leaned down the slope and held out his hand.

“Come on, Big Brother,” he said. “Aka and Apa are waiting.” Boomer looked north along the trail, but he only saw Aka. She had stopped and turned to watch them, waiting for Boomer to return to the path. Boomer crawled back up the slope and accepted his brother’s hand, careful not to ask too much of the six-year-old boy’s strength.

They pressed onward. The two boys supported each other as they struggled up the slope. Dash lagged more and more. The physical labor compounded with the toll of emotional exhaustion was rapidly overtaking him. But he put on a brave face and kept putting one foot in front of the other.

Ahead, their mother slowed too. She stopped to rest more often and for longer, until the boys came beside her. She squatted in the snow with her head resting against her walking stick, eyes closed. Dash fell to his knees and leaned against her. She rubbed his back and kissed the top of his head. Aka dried Dash’s tears with her sleeve, while Boomer stood apart staring off over the mountains.

Of all of the walrus warriors, why did it have to be HIS father to die in battle? Why Kenai Alyeska? His father was a good man—no a great one! Even though he was skilled and capable in battle, he was reserved and slow to violence. He was kind to all, always looking to help people, especially those who could not pay him back. He was a good father to Boomer. He was there, supporting and loving him through every step, every fall, every scraped knee and failing. Most importantly, he helped Boomer learned to stand.

And now he was dead.

“Come on, Boomer, Apa is waiting.” Boomer looked down. Aka and Dash had rested long enough and were ready to carry on. All together now, they trudged forward, stumbling, struggling, weeping, climbing up, up, up the final incline to The High Place.

Finally, long after the moon had set, they reached the summit. Aka unwrapped the parcel to reveal a paper lantern. Boomer had seen other families carry the sacred love-lantern when they made their trips up to the mountains after loved ones died. His friend Rocky and her family had done it when their grandmother Lupine died. Aunt Sunset and Uncle James had done it when their baby died two winters ago. When Elder Tanana passed, his wife was too old to climb to The High Place, so she carried the lantern and lit it at the edge of the village. It was something that happened to others, never to Boomer and his family. He had never imagined that he’d have to light the lantern himself.

Aka unfolded the lantern and held it up. Boomer lit a match and carefully shielded it from the wind with his hand. He reached in the lantern and held it against the wick. A thin strand of smoke rose up into the balloon part. The wick burst into flame. Boomer shook out the match and dropped in his knapsack. Wordlessly, they watched the lantern expand and glow with a pleasant yellow light.

“Apa is here,” Aka said solemnly. If he hadn’t been there, the fire in the lantern would not have lit, or so the legends say. She looked at both of the boys.

“Now is the time to say our last words to Apa. He will hear our words and they will be bound to this lantern. When we release the lantern, the spirit of Apa will take it. The light of our love will guide him onward into the Highest World.” She held out the lantern to Dash. He accepted it.

“What are your last words to Apa?” She asked. Dash sobbed and choked through his goodbyes. Boomer watched him, but he couldn’t hear him over the crashing waves in his own heart.

Boomer had been lucky. He’d had fifteen years with his father. But his little brother, Dash, had only six. The most important years, where Dash discovered who he was, were still to come. And now, he’d have to navigate them on his own, without their father. Boomer would do the best he could to help raise Dash, but he couldn’t hope to replace his father.

Bitterness bubbled up within Boomer. It was no accident; someone was responsible for his tragedy. Boomer had heard the name.

Eggman.

He was the son of Robotnik, the madman who waged war against the world trying to conquer it. The war had always been far away and of little knowledge or concern to the northern peoples. Now Eggman had come after them. How dare he! The northern peoples were kind and good. They had done no harm to Eggman or anyone else in the world. Boomer gripped his hands into fists. In his heart, the hurricane storm surge pounded and crashed against the seawall. The waters grew deeper and exerted great pressure on his chest. Every heartbeat felt like a punch. Boomer broke out in a cold sweat. Something was about to give.

“What are your final words to your father?” Boomer realized that Aka was looking at him, holding out the lantern. Dash lay in the snow, crumpled in a little ball, crying. Boomer took a deep breath and forced his tense muscles to relax. He reached out for the lantern.

Then he froze.

Glistening on Aka’s face… were tears.

Boomer had never seen her cry before. She didn’t cry when she had broken her arm, nor when her best friend died, and not even when Apa had left for the war.

Aka was crying.

Eggman had made Aka cry.

A tsunami of anger barreled through Boomer’s entire body overtaking seawall. The seawall cracked and broke, colossal boulders crashed into the tempestuous seas with such a deep bass boom that every bone in his body vibrated. The torrent of water barreled toward him. Icy floodwaters swirled around his legs in a powerful current. He struggled to keep his footing as the waters rose up past his waist, climbed to his chest, and topped his shoulders. There was nothing Boomer could do. He lost his grip on solid ground as the surge lifted him up and washed him away on the wild sea of emotions. He roared into the night a cry that echoed through the mountain range.

“I don’t have any last words!” He shouted, stomping his foot and balling his fists. His breath came in heaves as if he’d been caught underwater with not enough air. His expression was one of rage. Taken aback, Aka pulled the lantern back to her chest and shifted her weight to her back foot leaning away from him. Dash’s noisy sobbing got quiet and he looked up at Boomer, alarmed.

“This is all wrong!” Boomer yelled. “Apa shouldn’t have died. Eggman’s war on the world is wrong and should never have happened! I don’t have any last words! I don’t have any goodbyes because Apa shouldn’t have died.” Aka didn’t say anything, but stood patiently, still holding the lantern. Dash huddled behind her legs, with a fearful expression.

“I won’t let it go. I won’t stand for it anymore,” Boomer raged, “I’m going to fight Eggman and I’m going to stop him!”

“Boomer,” Aka said gently.

“No!” Boomer said holding up his hand. “I don’t want to hear it!” He ran to the edge of the summit.

“Boomer!” Aka cried and reached a hand out. Boomer leaped off the summit and landed in the snow on the steep downslope He slid down the hill faster and faster into the valley between the ridgelines while Aka and Dash watched him go.


	2. The Message of the Lady

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, people forget to look at the sky until they're in the deepest and darkest low place when up is the only way you can look.

Boomer slid rapidly into the valley. The mountains rapidly rose up on all sides, closing him in and blocking out the light of the lantern. Even with the starlight on the white snow, the valley floor was dark. It was many hours since the sun set, but it was still many more hours until the sun would rise.

Boomer landed in a waist-deep snow drift. He jumped to his feet. White hot fury surged through his veins and he plunged forward through the snow. Every step, the snow resisted him, the crusty surface breaking apart in large flakes while the lower layers of powdery snow flowed like water, filling in around his legs.

“Rrrraaaaahhhh!” Boomer snapped a thick branch off of a half-buried tree that stood in his path. He threw it as hard as he could off to the side. It whirled like a boomerang before stabbing the snow and sticking out at an angle. For some reason that made Boomer angry. He diverted to the stick, yanked it out and stabbed it into the snow until it was completely buried. Then he turned and continued his furious journey north.

He plowed through the snow until he had lost all sense of time. Gradually, the fury drained away from him but the pain of grief remained constant and low, like the ache of an old injury. Boomer’s pace slowed dramatically as the adrenaline wore off and his exhaustion overwhelmed his senses.

“No! I have to keep going!” He told himself. But where exactly? To take the fight to Eggman, that’s where. But he was so weak. So tired. He had to stop.

No! That wasn’t acceptable! Rest is for the weary and sleep is for the dead! Boomer had a mission he had to accomplish.

“Eggman you’ll pay for what you’ve done!” Boomer shouted shaking his fist to the sky. His breath caught in his throat and he let his fist fall.

In the absence of moonlight, the stars had grown brighter. He spied amongst the stars, the constellations who had been his companions for many years: the Red Fox whom his people called Kaguyagat, the Polar Bear, the Dogs, and the Caribou who always pointed the way north. Boomer wasn’t alone. Those who had guarded and guided him throughout his childhood, were still with him, even now in his darkest night.

And then she came.

A pale green light appeared directly above him. It grew in intensity and size, shifting and flickering like a growing fire. Soon she appeared in her full glory, dancing amongst the Fox, the Polar Bear, the Dogs, and the Caribou in silken gowns of green, white, blue, and pink.

It was the Lady herself.

They had many names for her; Aurora, The Lady of the Sky, Lady of Lights, Midnight Fire, the Gift-Giver, the Guide… She was the highest Goddess of Boomer’s people. She was—not with the rest of his tribe in the village celebrating their victory in battle, nor was she with his family still standing on the High Place, saying goodbye to Apa—she was here in the darkest, snowiest valley, with Boomer, the wretched child, who had broken the sacred tradition, refused to say goodbye and let his father go, and run away from his family. Boomer, the exhausted, angry, lost, broken walrus alone in a deep valley as far as possible from the sky. Who was he that she would pay attention to his sorrow? It didn’t make sense, and yet, it was.

It was clear to Boomer her message:

“You are not alone.”

Boomer sank to his knees, in shock and awe. It didn’t make sense. It was illogical. It was crazy unbelievable. There was an old saying: the Peoples of the North are the Children of Aurora. Before, he had always just known it in his head, now he felt it in his heart. The pattern of lights changed from sweeping curtains to showering beams. Again and still, the Lady’s message was arrayed brilliantly above him in a stellar display:

“You are not alone. I am with you.”

Boomer laughed and cried at the same time. It didn’t make sense, and yet, it was. The Lady cared about him. Why did she? There was nothing Boomer could offer her. Nothing he had done. Nothing he could do in the future to ever deserve the love of a Goddess. And yet, for some reason, somehow, beyond reason, she loved him. Boomer realized, for the first time in his life, he truly was the Child of Aurora.

“You are mysterious,” Boomer said. “Though, I do not understand your ways, I am grateful.” For a while, he just sat in the snow and stared at the sky, watching her dance, resting in her comforting presence. He felt the heaviness in his heart lighten, not completely, but a little. But a question nagged in his mind. He wasn’t sure whether he could ask her or not. She loved him, but she was still a deity. The nagging feeling got stronger and stronger until he decided to chance it. After all, a child could safely ask their parent any question.

“My Lady,” Boomer began tentatively. “I have a mission to stop Eggman. Please tell me. How should I go forward? What should I do?”

The Lady did not say. But her light burst brighter as if to reassert her message:

“I am here with you, my son.”

Boomer was confused. What was she saying? She wasn’t telling him what to do. Did that mean she wanted him to wait? To do nothing? To let Eggman (curse his name!) continue to devastate the world?

“Please, give me a task to do. I can’t wait around and do nothing.”

“Wait.”

Maybe she just meant she would tell him later, Boomer reasoned. It wouldn’t make sense for her to not show him the way forward at all. He was trying to do a good thing. Why wouldn’t she help?

“You are not alone.”

Boomer wondered, what if she never ever actually told him what to do? Should he just wait for her direction forever? What if it meant waiting a long time, like until he was an old man? Should he go ahead and take his father’s place as an Alyeska Warrior? Or should he try to find his own way? He didn’t know. Would he ever?

Boomer reclined in the snow, closed his eyes, and waited for the sun to rise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always remember, dear reader, you are loved!


	3. Battleground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even after the battle has ended, the battleground can still prove to be a dangerous place.

Boomer didn’t hurry home. He was very sore from the previous night’s fiasco, both physically and emotionally. He took the long way back, passing through the battlefield where his father died. Torn fabric, abandoned armor, spent and unspent ammunition, blood, and broken robots littered the muddy, icy field. A few clean-up crews were scattered around, collecting items and placing them in large wooden crates on sleds. No one payed attention to Boomer.

Blood splotches dotted the ice, staining it brown. It was clear, Apa wasn’t the only one to suffer and die in battle. Boomer wondered exactly where Apa had died. He hadn’t said goodbye to him on the mountain, but maybe he could be with him in his last moments, even though it was a few days too late.

He imagined Apa laying in the mud, dying, the battle still raging around them. Boomer knelt by his father’s side.

“Let me help you, Apa,” Boomer said reaching for him.

“No, son,” Apa instead grasped Boomer’s hand. “It is too late for me.”

“No, Apa, don’t die.”

“I’m sorry, my son. The Lady has called my name. It is my sacred duty to report to her.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I know, son. I know. I’m sorry I have to go.”

“Apa…” Hot tears started rolling down Boomer’s cheeks.

“Now you listen, son,” Apa gripped Boomer’s hands strongly. “Remember what I have told you, what I have taught you. Listen to your mother and the Elders. Take care of Dash.”

“Remember…” He started and nodded. Together the recited the Alyeska creed.

“Face darkness bravely, right wrongs, and overcome evil. Respect your Elders and take care of your brothers and sisters. Be true to yourself.”

Apa coughed weakly and gasped.

“Apa!”

“It’s okay. I’m still here.

“Apa don’t leave me!”

“I—I’m sorry I won’t be there for you and Dash as you grow up, become men, and have families of your own. But know that I’ll be watching, from above, I’ll be with you forever, in here!” He pressed his and Boomer’s hands to Boomer’s chest.

Apa’s body faded and his spirit stood, still holding Boomer’s hands. He nodded at him one last time and pulled away. Boomer watched him turn and look to the sky, to The Lady. He started floating upward. He rapidly rose higher and higher until Boomer could see him no more. He felt a pang of guilt that he had not bound his love to the lantern with his family.

“Son, you should not be here.” Boomer turned around, startled. It was a caribou medic.

“This is not a safe place for anyone, let alone a young person,” he said. “Come along. I’ll show you the safe path out of the battlefield.” Boomer followed obediently.

“Go home,” the caribou said. “I’m sure your family misses you.”

“Yeah,” Boomer agreed, tiredly. The caribou walked off and returned to his work. Boomer slowly skirted the western edge of the battleground. ‘Hurry up. Go home. There was no more reason to linger here,’ Boomer told himself. His father was no longer there. No longer anywhere. The caribou was right. Boomer still had the rest of his family, probably back in the village by now, worrying about him.

He kicked a drone. It fired a laser blast into the mud. He jumped back. The drone had just fired? It must not have been completely incapacitated. Boomer kicked it again. It fired again, but only when he kicked it. Boomer cautiously stepped around it and kept going. The battlefield really was still a dangerous place for the cleaning crews. The drones laying around were still all live weapons. One wrong move and somebody could get hurt.

‘Someone should take one of these things and use it to blast all the others,’ Boomer thought. Then he stopped, dumbstruck. That was it! He could use Eggman’s weapons against him! Man, wouldn’t that be sweet revenge. Boomer looked up and around. One of the crews was watching him, making sure he left. He waved and kept walking.

His mind raced with ideas. He could collect badniks during the night when the crews were gone, remove and tinker with their weaponry to create handheld weapons for his people. And then, when Eggman came to attack again, they would be ready. Other warriors wouldn’t have to die. Families wouldn’t have to be torn apart by violence. It seemed like a great idea, but something felt wrong. The Lady told him to wait. But Boomer was frustrated and angry and bitter. Waiting wasn’t an option. He had to act!

***

In the dark of night, Boomer collected castaway robots from the battlefield where his father died. He hid them in a mountain ravine and tinkered with them in his spare time. Only a few days had passed when he successfully created a hand-held weapon that could be fired at will. Within a few weeks, he had made several. Within a few months, he had enough to supply all of the warriors of his tribe. It was then that he revealed his activities.

The Elders were wary, but the young warriors were hot blooded and eager. “He’s right!” they said. “Scouts and spies terrorize our families. When Eggman returns we need to be ready to fight fire with fire!” The warriors accepted the gifts of new weaponry and immediately used them to cleanse their coastal territory of stray badniks and spies left over from the battle. They were very effective and the Elders were impressed, but still cautious.

Other tribes heard of the Alyeska Tribe’s new weapons and their successes. Representatives from the Tikano Wolves, the Eska Sea Lions, and even the Sakari Caribou came to Boomer for weaponry. There were plenty of old broken badniks from the battle remaining and Boomer felt like this was his calling. To arm the Peoples of the North to help protect them from the growing threat of Eggman.

A year passed. Then two. Boomer became so familiar with the designs of the badnik weapons that he started building weapons from scratch, simple at first, then more complex and devastating. Two years became three years which became five years. Boomer was widely known as the weapons manufacturer and distributor to all of the Tundra Lands earning the nickname of Weapons Master by the time he turned twenty years old. In his opinion, Boomer thought he was doing well to continue his father’s legacy (in his own way) helping people by enabling them to protect themselves. But a growing sense of discontentment smoldered within him. Something wasn’t right. He pushed away the feeling. “I’m doing a good thing,” he told himself and carried on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, Dear Reader, if the battle is over, do not linger in the battlefield.


	4. Brother Against Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You done screwed up, boy!"

It had been eight years since the battle. Boomer, now twenty-three years old, sported an impressive mustache. He had established his own workshop in town where he built weaponry. He had supplied weapons to most of the other tribes in Arctica and the northern peoples were now well-armed and ready for battle. But, surprisingly, battle never came. Eggman hadn’t tried to retake the north. He hadn’t even replaced the badnik spies they had destroyed. Reports from The South indicated that Eggman had gone quiet. How disconcerting.

The demand for Boomer’s weapons had slowed considerably now that generally everyone was fully armed. Boomer turned his attention to other projects: how to make better weapons. More powerful weapons. Even devastating weapons. Weapons that could end Eggman’s evil empire once and for all. But part of him was disgusted. He tired of thoughts of war and revenge and building things to destroy other things. Was this really his calling? Did he really want to be known for a legacy of destruction? It kind of made him feel sick. But then, in moments of weakness he remembered that night on the mountain when his mother cried. He remembered why he chose to do this and it strengthened his heart. Eggman must be stopped so no one else had to lose loved ones.

It had been a long time since the Lady had shown her face, not just to Boomer, or the Alyeska Elders, but all of Arctica and the Northern Lands. She had turned her face away from them. The sun, constantly hidden behind a cloud bank, never shone. The wind gusted endlessly, not just the regular morning east wind and evening west wind, but a blasting storm wind that rattled even the strongest cabins. The mountainside berries dried and withered before they were ripe. The garden veggies were small and straggly. The salmon did not ascend the rivers but stayed in the sea. Lady Aurora had chosen not to bless them this year. And Boomer had a nagging feeling that it was all his fault.

One early winter day, Elder Katmai summoned him. Boomer ducked into the dark tent at the edge of town set up around an ice-fishing hole. He coughed and waved his hand in front of his face. The place reeked of smoke and fish. Elder Katmai said nothing but continued to puff on his long pipe. Boomer sat down opposite him on the other side of the fishing hole. Boomer fidgeted as Elder Katmai stared at him, boring a hole through his soul.

“Is… something wrong?” Boomer asked nervously.

“You tell me,” the Elder said raising an eyebrow.

“Umm… maybe…?” Boomer wheedled then paused, but the Elder still did not speak. Boomer sighed. Elder Katmai was known for doing this. Keeping silent. Waiting for the other party to explain their thoughts without needless questions to bend the narrative any particular way. He had always felt that this was the way to the purest truest account. Boomer also knew that Elder Katmai was a patient man. It has been said that he and the chief from their rivals, the Nomi Walrus tribe sat in silence for three days before the Nomi Chief said a word.

Boomer heard shuffling outside the tent. Guards were no doubt posted. He wouldn’t be allowed to leave until they talked through whatever it was Elder Katmai wanted to talk through. Boomer sighed again. No point in delaying the inevitable.

“I guess… I don’t know,” he began. “I guess something is wrong. I mean… maybe.” Elder Katmai raised both eyebrows as if to say ‘go on!’

“I… I don’t know what my deal is. Something feels wrong. I—I can’t work anymore.” Boomer took off his gloves as a show and threw them on the ground next to him.

“I just… a couple days ago, I set down my tools and I couldn’t pick them up again. Just the sight of my project prototypes… like… disgusted me.” Boomer rubbed his face with his hands. Once again, the ocean of his heart was restless. The tide rose and crashed against the jagged rocks that littered the pebbly beach in front of the rebuilt seawall.

“I don’t enjoy my work anymore; I don’t enjoy building weapons. It feels like it’s wrong. And I don’t get it. I’m confused because at first, it seemed so right, but now it just seems wrong. I keep asking myself ‘specifically what feels wrong? Is it all weapons? Is it just these big bad ones I’ve been working on? Am I supposed to be doing something else instead?’ The Lady has hidden her face from me—from us. She chose not to bless us this year. I guess maybe I feel conflicted because our people are going to face a hard winter with not enough food; and these weapons I built, they aren’t going to feed us. You can’t fish with a gun—not efficiently at least. A laser spear won’t help plough the garden. And bombs are completely useless for berry picking. Maybe… had the Lady want me do something else instead? But if so, why didn’t she tell me? What does she want me to do now? I don’t know! I just don’t know!” Boomer stopped talking and fiddled with the string of the fishing pole. Elder Katmai waited a few moments to see if Boomer would continue, but he didn’t.

“You shouldn’t have waited,” Elder Katmai said.

“What?”

“You shouldn’t have waited so long to ask for advice.”

“But I didn’t… I’m not… you’re the one who—”

“You have long suspected something was awry, did you not?”

“Yes, I—”

“You should have come to me—or someone else—when you first felt the inklings that something was wrong, while the problem was still small and easily handled. Instead you let it fester and grow, like rot in the keel of a boat. You shouldn’t have waited until your boat started sinking before seeking help. Now, the problem is so massive that I fear we may not be able to rectify it.”

“Rectify what?” Boomer leaned forward. Now they were getting to the heart of the issue.

“Tell me, Boomer Alyeska, son of Kenai, did the Lady actually tell you to build weapons and arm the people?” Boomer couldn’t answer. He didn’t know. Was his idea to do it from her—or from himself? Boomer’s mind felt muddled. He couldn’t untangle the meaning behind everything that had happened.

Elder Katmai leaned back and puffed his pipe thoughtfully and waited. Finally, Boomer uttered meekly

“I don’t know.” Boomer looked away, feeling guilty. The following silence was tense. He picked up his gloves from the ice and fiddled with them nervously. Finally, the Elder spoke again.

“The Tikano and the Koko Wolf Tribes have turned against one another,” he said bluntly.

“What?!” asked Boomer. The Elder continued. He spoke slowly, pausing between each sentence. Boomer hung onto every word he said.

“The Eska sea lion tribe drove the Nukka seal tribe out of their ancestral territory. The Sakari caribou tribe attacked the human settlements on the mainland. The Miki hares and the Sesi Ptarmigans have long since moved away eastward into the mountains where they are safer. In our own tribe, there is talk of fighting our island brothers so that they might share some of their food with us. But everyone knows, they have less than we do.”

“Are you serious? Is this all really actually happening?”

“Serious as the grave.”

“Wh—why is this happening?”

“The ranks of True Warriors are growing thin now that they have weapons that require little skill to wield. Weapons are plentiful and true warriors are few, the fear of an attack by Eggman that never came to pass made the Northern Peoples restless and anxious, snapping at each other for the minorest of slights. Conflicts that used to be solved through peaceful means now are solved through violence. Tribes have turned against each other. Families have turned against families and against themselves. Brothers now fight brothers.”

“And it is all because of… my weapons?” Boomer asked. The Elder nodded. Boomer was horrified. He’d supplied his people to fight a war… against Eggman… but instead they fought a war… against each other and themselves.

“Our way of life is built on strength and independence but also taking care of each other,” the Elder continued. “We must work together to survive. If we don’t, we will die. With this hard winter coming… I fear for our people, Boomer. I am afraid we will not survive.”

“I’ll do whatever I can to help! I’ll—”

“It is too late.”

“What do you mean? Why do you say that?”

“News that the unity of the Northern Peoples has self-destructed has reached The South. And…” Elder Katmai’s voice trailed off as he bounced the fishing pole lightly on the stand. Boomer waited, his heart filling with dread.

“Eggman has heard!” said Elder Katmai darkly.

“WHAT?!”

“Yes. He has broken his long silence and now sends an invading force twice the size of the one he sent eight years ago.”

It was as if Boomer had been pushed off the seawall into the dark and stormy sea. The icy waters shocked him. Boomer couldn’t think. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. Elder Katmai continued.

“What do you have to say for yourself?”

“What… have I done?” Rotor covered his mouth with his hands. “I… I—this isn’t what I intended! I did what I did for the common good! To protect all of Arctica! I didn’t mean… oh what have I done? What have I done?”

“You have done enough damage,” Elder Katmai rose from his small stool. “As of now, Boomer Alyeska, you are no longer a free man. You are being apprehended and detained until such a time when you can face trial—if any of us lives that long.”

Two guards threw open the flap of the tent and gripped Boomer’s arms, pulling him to his feet.

“What the…!” Boomer struggled briefly. The guards held him fast and moved to drag him from the tent. Elder Katmai made a motion and they paused.

“Your brother, he is fourteen years old, is he not?” Elder Katmai asked.

“Yeah?” Boomer nodded.

“You have armed him, have you not?”

“Y-yes, I did.” Boomer remembered the small blaster he’d given him on his twelfth birthday.

“Then he will carry that weapon into war.”

“No! He can’t he’s just a kid! You can’t let him!”

“I know you’ve seen the battlefield where your father, among many others, perished. Knowing this, ask yourself. Do you expect that your brother will return?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, Dear Readers, to address problems when they're small, before they grow out of hand.
> 
> Also, remember Boomer's glorious mustache. It is important in the next story he appears in, called Rising Heroes.


	5. The Breaking of the Walrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Also the breaking of one poor wooden cot. (This is why we can't have nice things in jail cells.)

Boomer leaned on the windowsill, absently playing with his mustache, gazing upward at the night sky. Though the moon had risen beyond his view from the window, its rays reflected brightly off of the snow. The nearby buildings were clearly visible as if illuminated by a lantern. For two nights and two days, he had been confined to his cell with no news. He rapidly grew restless and bored, spending the nights worrying and the days pacing. He knew he could easily break out of the cell whose door and window were old and ramshackle. Already, he had mentally disassembled the door six times. But escaping would only put him and his family in a more precarious situation.

Outside the window, the village got ready for battle. The very young and very old were evacuated to their summer camp along the Chinook River. Grimly, he knew that his mother and brother were not among them. The tribe needed all hands on-deck for this one. Anyone able to wield a weapon was given one. As fragmented as the Northern Peoples were, there was no telling if anyone would come to their aid.

The warriors cleaned their armor, prepared their weapons, and set up defenses. Most carried Boomer’s weapons, but a few old fighters carried their traditional knives, spears, and crossbows. By the third evening, Boomer was alarmed. Only the Alyeska warriors stood ready to fight Eggman’s forces. Where were the other tribes? Weren’t they coming to help too? Arctica belonged to all of them. It wouldn’t be fair if the walruses bore the brunt of the fight… or would it?

Elder Katmai was right. It was Boomer’s fault that Arctica was no longer united. And now, the entire Alyeska tribe was going to pay for Boomer’s sins… and maybe that was the Lady’s will. Maybe they should just quietly accept their fate…

Boomer brought his powerful fist down onto the cot collapsing it in the middle.

“No! I was doing a good thing with good intentions! I was trying to protect the Arctica! I was trying to save my people! Everything I did I did to... to… keep them safe from that murderous monster, Eggman.”

“But were you?” Something inside him asked. Boomer exploded.

“I WAS TRYING TO KEEP YOU SAFE!” Boomer shouted out the window. The two night-watchmen patrolling the street looked up at him, surprised, shook their heads, and carried on. The guards standing outside the jailhouse looked at him through door, concerned. Boomer put his head in his hand.

“Honest, I was! I was just… I was just… I was JUST SO ANGRY! RAAAH!” He kicked the broken cot into the stone wall. “He attacked my country! He hurt my people! HE… HE KILLED MY DAD!” He picked up the cot and threw it into the floor.

The shorter door guard locked and loaded his weapon and turned to step in the door to face Boomer, but the taller guard caught his shoulder.

“What?” The short guard asked. “We should do something! He’s getting all riled up!” The tall guard pointed to the sky.

“Look!” Near the constellation Kaguyagat, a faint spot glowed green. Immediately, they both knew what it was.

“The aurora! The Lady is here!” She was finally showing her face after many seasons of hiding! Was it a coincidence that she was showing up was in the exact moments of Boomer’s personal crisis?

CRASH! The two guards looked back through door. Boomer had smashed the cot on the floor.

“THAT MONSTER! HOW DARE HE!” He grabbed one end of the cot by the legs and snapped them off. The guards looked at each other. The tall guard put his hand on the shoulder of the short guard as if to say ‘wait.’

“Do you know what happens when the sea is at its lowest ebb?” The tall guard asked quietly.

“What?” The short guard replied his eyes anxiously shifting back toward Boomer as the broken cot crashed against the wall.

“HOW DARE HE PRESUME TO ATTACK US, THAT BLACKGUARD, WHEN HE’S RESPONSIBLE FOR MY FATHER’S DEATH! THAT SLIME BUCKET! HE… he…” Boomer’s hands shook and the cot legs dropped to the ground. He sank to his knees, covered his face with his hands, and sobbed. The guards looked back at each other. The corner of the tall guard’s mouth turned up slightly as he finished his thought.

“This is the turn of the tide!” A light went on in the mind of the short guard.

“Oh!” He said, and looked back up to the sky. High overhead, the Lady’s presence in the sky had grown and brightened. The guards solemnly witnessed the breaking of the walrus.

“…he… made my mother cry,” Boomer said plaintively. He took several deep breaths in to calm himself. “I was so angry, so bitter, so lost. I just wanted… I just wanted to hurt Eggman. To get even. I wanted to avenge Apa. I wanted…” he pounded the floor weakly. “I wanted revenge.” He let out a cry.

“Apa! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! This isn’t what you would have wanted! You would have wanted me to help those who were hurting, not hurt anyone else! I let the darkness in my heart guide my actions and because of it, my bitterness, my… hatred… they’ve infected the Alyeska Tribe and all the other tribes of Arctica! And now everyone hates each other and they’re all going to get killed or enslaved by the man I hated most!” He let out a fresh round of sobs.

“And worst of all…” his breath was ragged and pained. He almost couldn’t say it. But it was the only way. “My greatest transgression… I betrayed the Lady.” The two guards looked at each other wide-eyed. What had he done?

“On the night Apa died, when I was at my lowest, my darkest hour, my time of greatest need, she was there for me… she… she loved me! And it makes no sense! Why would she love me? I’m nobody! I’m the foolish angry son of a dead soldier. When I was at my worst, the Goddess herself loved me. And what did I do?” Boomer stomped his foot.

“I betrayed her! I foolishly disregarded her command for me to wait. I let my bitterness drive my actions and I took the wrong path and now everyone is going to pay in war and famine. I repaid her for her love by betraying my people, her beloved chosen people to the enemy. And I didn’t mean to! I’m such a fool! And I’m… I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! If I could take it all back I would! I would do it all again and do it right! I’m sorry! I deserve… I deserve…” He was afraid to say it. He looked out the window and stopped. He stared slack-jawed through the frosty window up at the sky.

The Lady was here.

She showed her face. After so many years… there she was. Just like that night on the mountain eight years before.

Fifteen-year-old Boomer alone in a deep valley, exhausted, grieving, angry…

Twenty-three-year-old Boomer locked in a jail cell, ashamed, guilty, sorry…

She danced above the village, the rainbow edges of her garments sweeping through the celestial halls of stars, vibrant and active, ready at their side to face the battle ahead. She was there for them. For the Northern Tribes. For the Alyeska Walruses. For Boomer.

He was overcome.

She still loved him. He was still her child, still her son. And she loved him. And Boomer couldn’t believe it. How could she? After all he had done? After this giant hole he’d dug himself—and all of the northern tribes—into… how could she still love him? It didn’t make any sense. And yet it was. Boomer stared in disbelief at the shifting curtains of heavenly light.

The Goddess Aurora, the Lady of the Lights, was there. Despite his failings, she still she loved him. Still she had faith in him. Boomer couldn’t speak. There was nothing he could say. All he could do was smile and gratefully cry and rest in the shimmering rays of love she showered upon him. And Boomer knew deep within his heart that he was forgiven.

Outside the walls of the jailhouse, cries of joy awakened the village. Lights on every house were lit. People ran out of their homes in pajamas to gape at the sky. People started dancing in the streets. Even Elder Katmai’s heart thrilled with joy as he stood in the snow amongst his people leaning on his staff.

“The face of the Lady shines upon us once again!”

“We’re not abandoned!”

“There is hope!”

“Yes! There is hope!” Boomer agreed as he sat on the floor gazing upward.

“Yes!” The guards in the doorway echoed and cheered. The exchanged knowing glances. It was the repentance of Boomer that returned the Lady’s favor to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, Dear Reader, braving the storm is the only way to true peace.


	6. If You Build It, They Will Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does anyone do in a mechanic's workshop? 
> 
> They build.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was probably the most fun to write because of how many different species are in it. And yeah. I have no idea what sounds a porcupine normally makes.

Boomer awoke in the dark, alone. At first he was confused, disoriented, but then he remembered. The jail cell. The Lady of the Night. The love, forgiveness, and hope she rained upon him. Out the window, the lights of the lady were gone. The stars dimmed as the eastern sky brightened. Morning was coming soon.

It was cold. Very cold. And the air was still as death. Where were the guards? Boomer looked out his cell to the empty doorway, the door left agape. Not a soul moved in the village. Where had everyone gone?

A horn blew distantly and Boomer realized that everyone had gone to form up for battle. Eggman’s forces must be close at hand. But instead of rushing to act how he saw fit, Boomer paused and asked the Lady.

“Lady!” Boomer called out urgently. “My Lady, what should I do?” He may be imprisoned, but he was far from helpless. He had been forgiven by her, but he hadn’t made up for what he had done. There was still time to act. Still time to stop the massacre.

Boomer yelped and sat down hard on the iced stone floor as a round white moon-face with amber eyes and a black beak appeared in the window. It was a snowy owl! Boomer was in awe. True old-world owls were rare nowadays. Much to his wonder, the owl held an iron key in its beak. It dropped it on the snowy sill and uttered a single syllable that sounded halfway between “hoo” and “here!” The bird watched him for a moment more then took off and flew silently away. Boomer jumped to his feet. The bird had already disappeared from the view of the window.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he punched the glass of the window shattering the lower left quarter. He picked the key out of the snow and tried it in the lock of his cell.

Click! The door swung open with a groan. Boomer ran out and pushed the front door of the jailhouse all the way open. He looked around feeling guilty. Boomer had escaped jail! Someone was sure to come after him! But no one was around. He could see in the distance on the ice of the frozen inlet the huddle of all of the able-bodied Alyeska Walruses, warriors and civilians alike, bravely facing their fate. Had really no one else come to fight? Not even their brothers and sisters, the Nomi Walruses?

“Hey!” A voice shouted to Boomer’s left. It sounded young and childlike, but it wasn’t one he recognized. His gaze snapped to the left, but there was no one there. Had it been the owl?

Boomer’s gaze was drawn to a flapping red flag on a distant building—his shed! It was hard to tell from the distance, but it looked like the door was open. Boomer bolted as fast as a blubbery walrus can on an icy road. He peered through the gaping door. It looked like his workshop had been ransacked. No doubt guards had searched it for evidence.

“Aahh… what am I supposed to do here?” Boomer asked himself, but the answer was immediately obvious. What does anyone do in a workshop?

You build.

But what? Rotor’s mind raced. A weapon? He’d had a couple prototypes partially completed, but they were missing, no surprise, probably taken. He rifled through his blueprint scrolls. Blaster? No. Laser cannon? No. Taser grenade? No. None of these would be useful against the entire Egg army of badniks. He needed to think bigger. Well, not bigger, more wide-ranging. He needed something that could stop the entire Egg army at once without harming any of his people. He tugged on his mustache anxiously.

It was impossible! Nothing he had ever tinkered with or built had such capabilities! He was a failure of an inventor! Why couldn’t he—

“Oh!” Boomer snapped his fingers. Could it be?

He’d only read about such a device once, long ago, on an old Egg officer’s hand-held computer he’d hacked. Could he build a similar thing, from scratch within a short amount of time?

Improbable! He had no blueprints, no plans! And he’d long since disassembled the computer for parts. He only had a conceptual idea of how such a device might work; a generator and array would blast out an electrical wave that disabled every electrical device within range. Besides, it would destroy not only every badnik, but also every weapon of the Alyeskan army leaving them helpless, well other than the old warriors that still carried bows and spears and axes.

Boomer did a mental double take. Hold up! Maybe that was a good thing... If one excuses the idiom, he could kill two birds with one stone. Stop Eggman’s invasion force and disable all the weaponry he had made that had been used to implode the tribes. He could undo what he had done. But only to an extent. The only warriors on the battleground were Alyeskan. It would have been best if the rest of the tribes were present so he could destroy their weapons too.

It was like an invisible hand stayed his worry-thoughts. It wasn’t his job to bring all the tribes to the battle. It was his job to build the device that could stop the war before it even began.

“If you build it, they will come,” said the voice in his head. Boomer nodded. He knew what he had to do; time to get cracking.

***

A horn blew in the distance and the ground rumbled like an earthquake. Boomer popped his head out of his workshop. It was the Sakari Caribou! They had come to stand and fight at the side of the Ayeska Walruses! In a pack they ran on all fours kicking up the powder snow in a cloud around them. They came armed with blasters and guns and cannons and bombs. A few held the weapons of their ancestors.

“Yes!” Rotor shouted. “The Sakari Tribe came! Whoah! When did the Nukka Seals arrive?” Skirting the edges of the Alyeska walruses, the Nukka Seals chirped and banged their weapons on the ice in a rousing war-chant. They must have come up through a hole in the ice. The Tikano Wolves had already arrived and stood silently and resolutely on the front lines. But where were their brothers? Where were the Koko Wolves?

Boomer counted on his hands. There were eight tribes still not represented. To be honest, no Tonrar Wolverine would likely show face. They were lonely mountain creatures who seldom came near the coast. The Miki hares and Sesi Ptarmigans had long since run away eastward. The Shila foxes, if they chose to fight, would do so from the shadows. Foxes were not known for might in battle, but for cunning in the shadows. What about the Nanuk Bears? Surely there were still a few old warriors left. And the Nini Porcupines? They were fierce fighters! Why had they not come? The Eska Sea Lions did not have far to travel. They should have been here by now. And where were their brothers and sisters, the Nomi Walruses?

Boomer tried not to worry, but he did. Even with the caribou, wolves, and seals, there were still not enough fighters to even hope to defeat Eggman if their numbers were truly as large as Elder Katmai claimed. It was up to Boomer and his machine.

The sun was just behind the saddle of the mountains. Any moment now the light would rise above it and break upon them. And so would the wave of badniks. Dawn was when the enemy was rumored to arrive and now it was nearly upon them. Boomer added the finishing touches to his “EMPG” or his electromagnetic pulse generator. The shriek of an eagle stopped him in his tracks and his heart leaped into his throat. The lone Shishaldin Eagle was their lookout. He had spotted the inbound army.

Boomer dragged the generator over lip of the threshold. On the ice, it was much easier. He tugged it toward the edge of town, as close as he could get to the battleground and still have time to set it up.

“Let us help!” A deep voice offered. The generator lurched forward and Boomer fell forward into the snow as a pair of large furry legs stepped around him. He looked up. The generator was pushed by three grizzly bears!

“Yah! Yes! You’ve come!” Boomer cheered jumping to his feet.

“Nanuk Warriors at your service!” The largest one nodded to Boomer.

“Thank you! This is good enough!” Boomer clapped his hands. The bears stopped pushing.

“The village is clear,” another voice said. It was a Shila Fox captain!

“Your marksmen are in position?” The large grizzly asked. The fox nodded.

“Good! Get in position. Wait for my mark.” The fox padded swiftly off.

“NANUUUUUUUUUUK!” The grizzly roared. “NANUUUUUUUUK!” The other grizzlies echoed and they charged forward to join the rest of the Northern Army.

“AWOOOOOOO!” Boomer jumped. It was the unmistakable howl of wolves. Pouring from the mountains came the Koko wolf tribe.

“AWOOOOOOO!” The Tikano Wolves replied. The Koko wolves formed up intermixed with the Tikano Wolves. Brother wolf now stood by brother wolf in battle once again.

“Hurr! Hurr! Hurr! Hurr!” Sea lion after sea lion sprang out of a hole in the ice behind the army. They flanked the Eska seals and barked.

“RAAAAAAH!” Right on the heels of the Eska Seals came the Nomi Walruses up through holes in the ice.

“’Scuse me! Coming through!” Something bumped past Boomer. A wave of the combined forces of the Miki Hares, Sesi Ptarmigans, and Nini Porcupines surged past Boomer.

“Oh yeah! Woohoo! The whole gang’s here!” Boomer pumped his fist into the sky. “Well everyone except…” he froze. Standing on the top of a nearby butte was a lone Tonrar Wolverine armed with a laser cannon. His ice-blue eyes pierced Boomer’s soul and he nodded to him. Boomer raised a hand in greeting. The wolverine turned and aimed his cannon to the southeast where a low hum grew in volume.

The enemy was here.

Boomer quickly flipped the switches and turned on the generator. It powered up with a roar and fireball ejected from the exhaust port. Now he only had to wait for it to reach full capacity. The roaring sound of approaching drones grew louder until it rivaled the volume of Boomer’s generator.

“THERE THEY ARE!” Boomer shouted to no one in particular this instant he saw them. They were like thunderhead of mosquitoes rising from the southeast. The swarm of flying and snow machining badniks zoomed rapidly across the frozen tundra. They were coming too fast! Boomer’s generator wouldn’t be at full capacity before they broke against the front lines of the army!

“No, no, no, no, no! It’s not ready!” Boomer put his hands on his head. A wisp of white alighted on top of the generator. It was the snowy owl again!

“Whoah! You’re back!” Boomer exclaimed. The owl tilted its head sideways.

“How!” It hooted.

“Not good!” Rotor said, not sure if the bird could understand. “They’re coming too fast! I need… like thirty more seconds!”

“Ho!” It replied and took off. Boomer watched it fly upward but lost sight of it as the sun broke over the mountains and dazzled him.

“Gimme twenty more seconds!” Boomer begged the massive swarm. He had to fire the pulse as soon as possible. Even if he was ten seconds late after the battle began, there would be casualties. But if he fired early, it was very possible that some of the badnik army would not yet be within range, leaving some armed badniks to fight the nearly defenseless United Northern Army. If the battle began, if even one second of fighting came to pass, people would die. Wolves and walruses and caribou and bears and foxes and seals, sea lions, walruses, porcupines, hares, and ptarmigans would die. And their deaths would be on Boomer’s head and heart forever.

Suddenly, the swarm was swept seaward. Flying badniks tumbled sideways knocking into each other. Snow kicked up in a massive drifting cloud blinding the sensors of the snow-machining badniks. There was a burst of flame amid the snow cloud as a badnik crashed and exploded. Instantly, Boomer knew what had happened. A gust of wind had struck the badnik army hard.

“Of course!” He snapped his fingers. “As soon as the sun rises, the wind begins to blow down from the mountains to the sea!”

The army was momentarily delayed as they righted themselves and reformed up. But was it enough? Boomer watched, tingling with anticipation (or was it electricity) as the power gauge neared 100%. His hand gripped the firing lever tightly. He looked back and forth from his gauge to the armies and back down to his gauge.

95%

“NANUUUUK!” The bears roared distantly. The upper discharge antenna of the generator sizzled and snapped with electricity.

96%

“AWOOOOO!” The combined wolfpacks cried. The badniks turned on individual force fields.

97%

“Kyah! Kyah! Kyah!” The Ptarmigans squawked. The hares screamed and the porcupines rattled their quills. The badnik army generated a massive force field in front of them barreling toward the Northern Army like a tidal wave.

98%

“ALLLYYYYEEESSSKKKAAA!” His people the walruses boomed over everyone else. Boomer took a deep breath. The warriors poised their weapons up toward the badnik surge.

99%

“ALLLYYYYEEESSSKKKAAA!” Boomer joined in.

100%

Boomer pulled the lever down with so much force it broke off the generator. A ring of purple light blasted out from the discharger antenna in a shockwave. Boomer was thrown back from the generator as if he’d been struck by lightning.

The electromagnetic pulse passed harmlessly through all of the living creatures of the Northern Army, but it powered down every single electrical device it touched. All of the army’s blasters and laser cannons and taser grenades powered down with a collective hum and a few puffs of sparks and smoke. The badniks that raced along the snow powered down, tipped over and crashed into each other. The flying badniks dropped like boulders into the ground and many exploded. The badniks piled up in a massive mountain of mechanical rubble at the foot of the Northern Army.

The next few moments were filled with crashing noises and explosions. The warriors backed away and shielded their faces. The sounds of destruction quieted. Then there was silence as the morning wind blew away the smoke. The entire badnik army was destroyed.

And so the battle was over, before it had even begun.

The warriors of the entire Northern Army looked to the source of the mysterious shockwave. They looked and saw Boomer standing free in the village next to the generator.

“Oh!” Boomer gasped when he realized everyone was looking at him. He took a deep breath and got on top of the generator.

He hadn’t planned to do it, but it seemed like the right thing to do. Words flowed from his heart and out of his mouth, words he hadn’t expected, words he hadn’t yet thought through, but they were ideas he had felt in his heart and soul. And in the loudest voice he could muster, he said:

“I hereby declare in the presence of all these witnesses that I, the eldest son of Kenai Alyeska, will never again build another weapon for as long as I live. I dedicate my life to helping other people. No longer will I be called Boomer the Weapons Master; I now change my name to Rotor Alyeska.”

The wind carried his voice over the tundra through the army and out to sea where even the shrimp, krill, and fish heard him. Rotor smiled. He had done it! He had turned his worst failure into his greatest victory.

But nobody cheered. Nobody booed. Nobody knew what to do.

The army stared at him. Rotor felt hot and awkward under their scrutinizing gaze. He looked away from them up at the butte. The lone Tonrar Wolverine nodded to him once in approval, then disappeared down the backside of the hill, leaving the inoperable laser cannon behind.

Rotor realized, he may have stopped the situation from getting worse, but he couldn’t undo the damage that had already been done. He may have been the hero of the day, but he was also still the villain. Rotor bowed his head, jumped off the generator and headed back toward the jailhouse. He still had to stand trial. He was still obligated to endure whatever consequence the tribe and the Lady saw fit. Rotor entered his cell, locked the door, and threw the key out of arm’s reach.

And he waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, Dear Reader, fight the good fight by using your talents.
> 
> Also, try not to annoy bears. They are particularly good at smashing.
> 
> And don't annoy walruses either. They might EMP your cell phone.


	7. We Are All To Blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rotor stands tall and looks Fate in the eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know how trials work so I kinda tried to make it up. Yeah, this chapter definitely has room for improvement, but in the end, it says what it needs to say.

The Northern Army dispersed rapidly after the battle that didn’t happen. Warriors grumbled about being called upon to fight when they weren’t actually needed. Disgruntled, the young fighters cast aside their now-inoperable weapons. The bears were upset at having nothing to fight and settled with crushing any badnik that still twitched. The wolf tribes squabbled briefly before establishing a shaky truce so that they might depart in peace, one to the north and the other to the south. The Nukka seals refused to let the Eska sea lions use their ice holes to return to the sea, so the sea lions resigned themselves to walking to the outer edge of the ice beyond the village. The foxes, porcupines, ptarmigans, and hares left without a word and disappeared into the northern tundra and eastern mountains. Even though they had united against a common enemy, they were not yet at peace with each other. The caribou were the most amicable of the tribes and agreed to assist the walruses with disposing of the mound of “scrapniks,” as they called them. Rotor was glad that he didn’t have to witness the parting of the tribes. He huddled alone in the jailhouse shielded from their embittered gazes and less-than-quiet complaints.

No one came to see to Rotor until late in the afternoon. He was getting hungry and thought about begging a passerby to bring him some fish jerky.

“You are dismissed,” a familiar voice ordered. Rotor turned. Elder Katmai dismissed the guards at the door with a motion of his hand. “He won’t run away. Return to your families.”

“Sir, we’d like to offer our testimony as witnesses in the trial of Boo—I mean Rotor,” the shorter guard said.

“Rest assured, you will be called upon. Now go. Be with your loved ones as we celebrate our victory.”

“Yes, sir!” As they waddled off, one could be heard saying “what an odd thing, celebrating the victory of a battle that shouldn’t have happened and actually didn’t.”

“Elder Katmai!” Rotor said. He wasn’t sure whether to be happy or afraid. Elder Katmai presented Rotor with a basket of bread, fish, and a thermos of crowberry tea. Rotor gratefully took them.

“Gee, thanks! I sure am starving!” Elder Katmai pulled up a stool across from Rotor and watched him eat. He leaned against the wall, crossed his legs and pulled out his pipe.

“You mind?”

“No! No, not at all!” Rotor said with his mouth full. Elder Katmai lit up and sat there smoking. He said nothing. Rotor wondered what he wanted from him. Rotor had nothing more to say. He’d already said everything he wanted when he stood on top of the generator. Whatever else could wait for the trial. Rotor finished, wiped his face and hands on the napkin and repacked everything back in the basket. He reached through the bars and set it near the feet of the Elder. Rotor looked at Elder Katmai. Elder Katmai looked at Rotor and raised an eyebrow.

“Do you understand why I did what I did?” Rotor asked. Elder Katmai did not answer, but Rotor thought he saw an almost imperceptible nod and upturn at the corner of his mouth. That was good enough of an answer for him.

“Did I… do good?” Rotor asked cautiously, like her were a child asking his mother if his room was clean enough.

“You tell me.” Ah yes. Elder Katmai’s famous response to everything.

“I think…” Rotor began tentatively. “I think that, yes. I did good.” “Finally,” he added, “but still… it isn’t enough. I didn’t… I can’t… undo what I did before.”

“But this time, you did good?” Elder Katmai asked.

“Yes.” Rotor said more confidently, this time. After all, he had singlehandedly defeated Eggman’s entire invading force. “Yes, I did good.” Elder Katmai smiled. That was indeed the answer he was looking for. He sat for a moment more, then extinguished his pipe and wordlessly stalked out. Immediately, Dash bounded in with Aka right behind him.

“I thought he would never leave!” Dash piped. “I’ve been waiting all day to come and see you!”

“How are you?” asked Aka trying to disguise the worry in her voice.

“I’m… better,” Rotor said and smiled. Even though his answer had few words, his face and body language spoke volumes. Something had changed in Rotor for the better. Aka looked relieved.

“But I do have a question for you,” Rotor said, his face clouding, afraid of the answer. “Were you…?”

“On the battleground with the army?” Dash finished his sentence for him.

“Um, yeah. That.”

“No,” Aka said. “We were not permitted. If anything had happened… if you had failed… Elder Katmai didn’t want our deaths on your head. He said it would have been too much for you to have to bear.”

“Yeah. A couple foxes escorted us up to a cave in the mountains, you know, the spring where Fireweed Creek comes from,” Dash said. Rotor grinned. Elder Katmai had had compassion on him. Just like the Lady. Even though Rotor had done much he regretted, Elder Katmai still cared for him in his own, quiet way. Rotor wondered if his escape via snowy owl had been his doing.

“I know you’ve already eaten, but still, I brought you this.” Aka pulled another basket of food out from behind her back.

“Ooh!” Rotor said eagerly. “You know me, I’m always down for a second dinner!”

***

Rotor was allowed to return home and remain on house arrest until his trial, which took place several days later.

The trial took all day. Rotor told his story, start to finish, sparing no detail. He told it plainly, honestly, and humbly. Then the witnesses told their part, his mother and brother, the jailhouse guards, and even the foxes and bears who had helped him and his family on the day of The Battle That Didn’t Happen. Representatives from each tribe he gave weapons to were given the opportunity to share what had happened since they received the weaponry, both good and bad. In the end, everyone had their say. All were dismissed for the night to return home while the Elders conferred with each other and asked the Lady to make her will clear.

That night, Rotor slept fitfully. His sentence would be handed down the next morning. What would it be? Imprisonment? Hard labor? Solitude? Maybe even…? Rotor gulped as he laid in bed staring into the darkened rafters. It was a long time before he was relaxed enough to sleep, and when he did, it was fitful.

Rotor awoke, exhausted. He feeling heavy and burdened. He knew in his heart and soul it was going to be a hard day. He braced himself. Whatever happened, he would bear it nobly. He wanted to make up for what he had caused honestly.

Aka made breakfast but no one ate. Their brooding silence was interrupted by a rap on the door. The guards had come to escort Rotor to his sentencing.

The morning air will still and cold, like it was on the day of the battle. All of the seats around the bonfire pit were occupied. It looked like most of the village had turned out, as well as many from other tribes who had a vested interest in Rotor’s actions and fate. Elder Katmai, accompanied by several other Elders and representatives from other tribes arrived. Elder Katmai took his place in the center of the ring, standing on the firepit cover.

“We all agree, there has been strife, quarrels, and disharmony amongst all the Northern Tribes. We all agree that the weapons constructed by Rotor have played a central role in the conflicts. But there is one more truth no one has yet brought to light.” Elder Katmai paused. The People waited quietly, waiting.

“The guilt does not solely on Rotor. It is also on every one of us.”

“How can you make such a claim?” burst out Amaruk, a particularly hot-blooded Tikano wolf.

“Rotor of Alyeska did not force you, the Tikano Wolves to fight your brothers the Koko wolves,” Elder Katmai said sharply. “Rotor of Alyeska did not provoke the Sakari Caribou to attack the inland human settlements. Nor did he trigger the oppression of our more vulnerable peoples, the Miki Hares, Sesi Ptarmigans. You did. You all did. Instead of forgiving each other’s mistakes, instead of overlooking each other’s faults, you decided to fight each other. We are all to blame. The Lady is displeased with us and has removed her hand of blessing from us this year. Let us learn from our mistakes. Let us come to love our brothers and sisters once again, for if we do not. We will all die.” The crowd murmured to each other.

“Rotor has testified his repentance and also shown it by his actions. He made hard choices, acted selflessly to prevent the battle from occurring and help stop the strife between the tribes. That being said, he cannot remain unpunished. By the discussion and vote of the Elders, with guidance from the Lady herself, we have come to a decision. Rotor Alyeska, son of Kenai Alyeska, in the presence of these witnesses, you are hereby sentenced to banishment from the Tundra Lands effective midnight tonight until such a time when it is deemed you may return.” Some people cheered. Some people grumbled. Rotor stood resolutely.

“I accept that,” he said bowing his head.

“As it is spoken—” began Elder Kotlik to signal the end of the trial, but Elder Katmai interrupted him.

“Furthermore,” he announced holding his hand up. “I…” His voice faltered briefly and he looked directly at Rotor. “I have a second sentence to pronounce.”

‘Oh no,’ Rotor thought. Whatever this was, it wasn’t going to be good.

“I hereby sentence… myself… to banishment as well!”

“What?!” The crowd collectively exclaimed.

“Why would you do that?” One of the Alyeska warriors asked. Elder Katmai’s eyes looked pained

“A long time ago,” he began, “one of the families in my care was in great need, the need for comfort and help; advice and reassurance; the need for a father figure… and I failed to fulfill my duty. I failed you, Rotor, Dash, and Alasie. I was not there for you. I thought perhaps you, Rotor, might seek the guidance and mentorship of someone else. I expected you to find your way on your own. I didn’t question when you started making weapons. And I am sorry. If I had been there for you, Rotor, perhaps I could have prevented all of this. I didn’t stop the chain of events that lead to today and so I am just as much guilty as Rotor is, maybe even more. The punishment is also just as much mine. Besides, If I cannot care for even one small family, how can I hope to care for the entire Alyeska Tribe? The answer is, I cannot. I hereby step down as High Elder of the Alyeska Tribe.”

The crowd gasped and some people leapt to their feet. Katmai raised his hands.

“May you be blessed forever by the beautiful hand of Aurora, Our Lady of the Night.” He dropped his hands and departed. Elder Kotlik stared after him momentarily. Then he stood on top of the firepit cover.

“As it is spoken, so let it be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, Dear Reader, to own up to your mistakes. Nobley bear the consequences because this is the way.
> 
> (I couldn't help myself with the Wonder Woman reference.)


	8. One Last Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We'll end this journey the same way we started it... alone."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like Rotor's mom.

Rotor spent one last day with his tribe. All of his family came to see him. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and even several childhood classmates. He accepted their apologies, hopes, and well-wishes, knowing that this grace period before he had to leave was as much for them as it was for him.

By late afternoon the visitors in the family’s home had thinned to only a few stragglers. Rotor was curious as to why Elder Katmai had not shown up. He had fully expected him to come and sit in silence smoking his pipe on the doorstep while Rotor awkwardly beside him—or something to that effect. But Elder Katmai was strangely absent. In fact, he was nowhere to be found. Some said he must have left for his exile already, but no one really knew. After the trial, he had taken his staff and walked as if he were returning to his fishing tent, except that he never actually arrived. He just… disappeared. Just before dinner, Aka sent everyone else away.

“We will finish this journey just as we started,” she explained. “Alone.”

The family made one last dinner together. It was a humble meal for they had to start rationing food for the long winter ahead. After dinner, Dash wanted to play a game, but neither he nor Rotor were very much into it. Outside, Aka built a bonfire behind the house and they sat around it mostly in silence staring into the flames. The mountains shone pink with alpenglow before fading into the sea-blue dusk. The sun set and the moon rose. Rotor half-expected the Lady to appear, but she did not. Dash leaned against Aka and dozed. Rotor stretched and momentarily closed his eyes. He knew he could afford to. Aka would not sleep that night.

Rotor awake to Aka gently shaking his shoulder. Dash stood nearby rubbing sleep out of his eyes. The fire was nothing more than red coals.

“Come,” said Aka. “Midnight is close at hand.”

They went into the house and Aka prepared a knapsack of food. Rotor collected a few supplies. It was impossible to know exactly what he would need. He didn’t know where he was going or how far. Would the Lady guide him? He hoped so. Rotor grabbed his trusty dry-bag from the shelf in the closet. Unbeknownst to Rotor, tucked away in the back, rewrapped and bound in scarlet cloth and twine, lay the paper lantern from that night all those years ago, unused.

When Rotor was ready, they left the house and headed westward toward the sea. Along the road stood solemn villagers armed with red lanterns, watching in silence as they passed. Some stood on the front steps of their homes. Some gazed from the candlelit windows of upper stories. And above them all, the Lady of the Night danced.

The lone family passed out of the village, followed the trail to the shoreline, and walked to the edge of the ice.

Rotor stood and solemnly looked out over the endless darkness of the vast waters. A distorted reflection of the stars and the Northern Lights rose and fell on the rolling waves. He’d swam in the Great and Wild Kula Sea many times, but he had never strayed far from their coastline.

“I’m sorry for all of this,” Rotor said.

“Don’t apologize,” Aka said. “At the time, you did what you thought was best, so stand by your decisions. And accept the consequences.” Rotor looked at her, standing tall, her long, dark brown hair bound in a single braid that hung over the shoulder of the Forget-Me-Not calico kuspuk she wore over her parka. She seemed so strong, so resolute, so stern, tempered by long winters and the rugged lifestyle of the North. This was who she was every day, quiet, but steadfast, like a lighthouse on the rocks. But today, he could see cracks around the edges. Her face was pale. Her hands limply open at her sides. At heart, she was a mother who was losing her son.

“Where will you go?” Dash asked anxiously. “How long will you be gone? Will we see you again?”

Rotor felt sorry for Dash. He could see the pain in his eyes; he was reliving the night he said goodbye to Apa on the mountain. Now he was saying goodbye to his brother at the sea. Rotor wanted to comfort him, protect him from more pain, to tell him “yes, I’m coming back, don’t worry, we’ll see each other again soon,” but he couldn’t. It would have been a lie. There was no guarantee that Rotor would even survive the night, let alone months or years in exile. And even if he did, he still may never return. Life in the Far North is harsh. Resiliency is best learned by facing hard truths, not hiding from them.

“I don’t know,” Rotor said simply. Dash didn’t reply, but approached shyly. He held out Rotor’s dry bag to him which Rotor accepted and slung over his shoulder. Then Dash forcefully hugged his big brother burying his face in Rotor’s shoulder.

“I’m going to miss you! I love you! Please come back soon!” Dash blubbered.

Rotor worried about him. He was afraid without the guidance of a father-like mentor, Dash would follow a similar destructive path. Rotor hated that he couldn’t make sure his brother was taken care of in that respect. He had to leave it up to fate, leave it up to the tribe who had failed him. He didn’t know if Dash would be okay.

“I love you too, Little Brother. I’ll never forget you.” Dash pulled away. Rotor put his hands on his shoulders and looked Dash in the eye.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” Dash nodded.

Aka stepped forward and hugged Rotor one last time. “Remember where you are from, son,” she whispered. “Remember who you are.” Rotor couldn’t answer. His voice would have betrayed him. Aka stepped back next to Dash.

“We will keep the light on for you,” Aka said.

“Yes!” Dash agreed. “We’ll keep watch for your return.”

Rotor walked back to the edge of the ice. His resolve wavered. He didn’t want to go! Everything in his heart and body screamed “no! Do not do this! Do not leave!” Their family was breaking apart. Rotor was afraid—terrified even—that they would never again would they be back together, never would they be a whole family. This was it. The rending-apart of their family forever. Rotor struggled to stand as the searing pain of separation burned his soul.

“It is time to go,” his mother said gently. Rotor looked back to Aka and Dash, surprised by his Aka’s unexpected nudge.

But she was right. He’d been so focused on what he was leaving behind, that he forgot the most important thing: what was ahead. He’d been looking at the ocean as something frightening. Something hateful. The thing that would carry him away from all he knew. But maybe that was wrong. The ocean was also—quite literally—a sea of opportunities—full of potential. Where would he go? Who would he meet? What adventures would he go on? And above all, how would he pursue his goal to stop Eggman while still honoring his vow and the Lady?

There was so much he was leaving behind. But there was even more out there ahead of him. Rotor’s heart filled with fear and hope, pain and love. It was time to go. Rotor had a mission. What gave him strength was his family who stood behind him, and the Lady who was with him.

“I love you,” Rotor said simply. Dash smiled through his tears. Aka did too. “I love you Aka, I love you Dash, and I love all of Alyeska, Arctica, and all the Northern Peoples.” He looked out to sea and took deep breath, his last breath of Alyeskan air. He nodded to his Aka and waved to his brother.

“Farewell!”

And with that, he turned and jumped into the sea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, Dear Reader, to view the unknown sea in front of you not as a dark and scary cruel thing, but an exciting interesting new thing full of opportunities and potential.


	9. The Journey Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, how does Rotor end up in a tropical paradise?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the locations mentioned are real places. See if you can figure them out!

How cruel the hand of fate! Before, he had been figuratively lost before in the seas of emotion in his heart. But just as soon as he found his way, he found himself cast once again into the roaring surf, but this time, in an actual physical sea. Rotor struggled as he relearned how to swim in the waves and currents of the sea.

Strangely enough, Rotor couldn’t help but feel relieved. Instead of being imprisoned or indentured as a manual laborer, he was set free. The sins of his youth were no longer held against him. He was released from all obligations and responsibilities to his family, to his tribe, to the whole of Arctica… But instead of feeling liberated, he felt lost. Untethered. Unmoored.

Rotor had no map, no compass, no direction other than the flickering of the Lady of Lights. She had drifted away from him, as if she was leading him. Judging by the position of the Caribou constellation, he followed her northward. Rotor was curious. He already lived in the Far North. But what was north of the Far North?

He left the shores of Arctica behind and passed strange new uninhabited islands. The waters grew deeper, the waves higher, and the air colder. The seas to the north held the reputation of being particularly rough and they were living up to it. All day, every day, Rotor fought through the wild waters northward, much of it in the dark as the winter days grew shorter and shorter. Soon the sun was only up for less than an hour.

Then one time, the sun set and did not rise again. Rotor swam in the dark, ate in the dark, and slept on rocky windswept shores in the dark. Hour after hour, day after day, the stars wheeled about the central star, the North Star, which seemed to be directly overhead. How could that be? Where could he go now? How long until he could stop and rest? Thoughts of what he left behind dimmed as he became more and more focused simply on surviving. Instinct told him to turn around. To go back south to calmer, warmer, tamer waters, but instead, he chose, time and time again, to follow the Lady. To trust her guidance. She was all he had left. She would see him through.

His life was very simple and predictable. Eat, swim, sleep. Eat, swim, sleep. Over and over. Time after time. A thousand years passed. Or was it only days? Rotor couldn’t tell. There was no more yesterday or tomorrow. The only time he thought of was Now.

Rotor felt his intelligent mind become quickly becoming subdued as the wilder instincts of his ancient ancestors took over in the fight to survive. He scavenged in the shallows, eating raw fish, crustaceans, and seaweed. Once his clothes rotted away and he abandoned his ragged dry-bag. He didn’t need the tools and supplied he had brought originally, he found everything he needed around him in. Now unhindered by the artifacts of his former life, Rotor found his speed increased significantly.

With the distractions of his former life gone, his senses enhanced. He could see underwater with unprecedented clarity. He could hear the snapping and sizzling noises as the multicolored gowns of the Lady as they flashed across the sky. He could feel the magnetic tug of the world, like he never had before. He marveled at wonders of the dynamic ocean, mysterious new lands, and the familiar stars in the sky. Even though no one accompanied him, he was not lonely, for the Lady led him forward, the stars trailed behind, and the beloved sea surrounded him carrying him onward.

Rotor wondered as his keen eyes watched day to day as the north star drifted from directly overhead to farther and farther behind him. It appeared that the Lady was leading him south. Curiously, at times, the horizon seemed to glow, each time it grew brighter than the last. What did it mean? So long had he dwelt in darkness that he had forgotten the sun.

And then, finally, one day, the sky brightened more and more until the stars faded and the sun broke over the jagged horizon. Long shadows reached like talons across the waters toward Rotor. He hauled himself up onto a lone rock jutting up off the sea shelf. He basked in the feeble light between the shadows cast by an imposing mountainous land mass to the east. Sunrise! At long last! The long night had broken and a new day had come. And something in Rotor’s heart and mind awoke with the dawn.

The daylight did not last long and Rotor was once again plunged into darkness, but his heart felt lighter and his skin remembered the warmth long into the night. And later, the sun rose again. This time for longer, with an arc that climbed higher into the sky than it had the previous time. The length of the days grew rapidly the further south he swam. Rotor who had adapted to the comforting blanket of darkness had to readjust to the light.

The months spent swimming were taking their toll on Rotor. Barnacles grew on his back. He had lost much weight and was becoming less resistant to the cold. As weariness and exhaustion increased, he swam shorter and rested longer. The journey seemed to take its toll on the Lady as well. Night to night, her lights dimmed. Sometimes many nights went by between her appearances. In the end, she always did she reappear and still she led him ever southward. Rotor wondered how much longer his journey would last and where she was taking him.

Rotor passed strange lands to the east. On the cliffs and shores, stood creatures—species he had never seen before—and watched him pass. It had been so long since he had interacted with other people, he wasn’t sure he remembered how. It had been months since he heard spoken word or tried to speak himself. Even the memory of his own name was dusty in his mind. Rotor. That was what they used to call him. That was what he named himself.

In an effort to avoid people, he sought to sleep on inaccessible beaches and remote sea rocks, but there came a time when facing others was inevitable. He’d been swimming through a wide channel along the shores of a dismal and alien city made of gloomy stone buildings, smoking towers of metal, crowded, dirty houses compressed and stacked on top of each other like the bricks they were made of. How dirty and crowded this strange way of life! Rotor longed for the clean air, clear skies, open tundra, and snowy mountain ranges of his homeland faraway. But that was faraway behind him. There was nowhere discreet for him to stop. He had no choice but to take refuge under a filthy bridge of that alien city.

In the night, Rotor was discovered in the night by a patrolman, who was some kind of mouse or vole. Rotor’s mind, rusty from his wordless time in the ocean, could not comprehend what he said. Was he even speaking a language Rotor knew? But he figured out by his gestures and expressions that he wanted him to follow him. The patrolman, Rotor noticed, were skinny, pale, and wore ragged uniforms. Was it normal for this tribe’s warriors to be so… poor and sickly?

The patrolman led him into a small house. Half a dozen disheveled creatures sat at a long table hunched over great bowls of soup and clung greedily to fist-sized chunks of bread. A woman scurried into the room carrying a steaming pot of something that smelled amazing. She smiled at Rotor and pecked the patrolman in the cheek before motioning Rotor to sit. Rotor realized that they were married and that they had opened their home to feed the destitute of the city. Rotor was confused and surprised. They must have thought he was destitute! How silly! He had never been wanting for food or a place to sleep since he left home because the Lady had been taking care of him. He looked down at himself.

Oh.

To be honest, he was quite a sight. He was skinny (for a walrus), naked, dirty from sleeping under the bridge, with a shaggy unkempt mustache, and barnacles clinging to his back which were telltale signs of months spent at sea. It was true, he was actually homeless and had no money or possessions to his name. Rotor was mildly amused. Maybe he actually was poor by their standards. In his mind he wasn’t nor had he ever been. He had always been taken care of by his family, his tribe, the rich Arctican Lands, the Kula Sea, and the Lady, herself. Even as he undertook his long journey, he was never wanting for food or a place to sleep.

On the other hand, the Patrolman and his wife were not rich by any stretch of the imagination. Their home was cramped and lacked all furniture other than the table and chairs. Their clothes were patched and threadbare in places. They themselves were thin. They had no rich tundra, forests, and waters to supply them. Their family was small, and Rotor doubted their tribe was any better off than they were. He wondered what sort of deity the worshipped and if he or she provided for them.

Rotor was amazed. These people, who had little themselves, offered what they could to him and others. Rotor smiled for the first time in a very long time. All of the grit and grime of this unpleasant industrial city was redeemed in his mind by the actions of this one selfless patrolman and his wife. Rotor seated himself at the table and waited eagerly for the midnight meal to be served.

But it was not to be. There was a loud crash as the door tore off its hinges and slapped the floor. Robots—unmistakably badniks—bounded through the hallway and pounced upon the needy people seated at the table. Three were seized in the talons of the robots. The patrolman pushed Rotor backward into a dark room with an open window and closed the door behind him.

Rotor’s heart raced. Eggman’s hand was in the city, oppressing the poorest of the poor and those who dared to help them. What else was the foul fiend up to? Rotor’s admiration for the brave couple only grew and he wished the best for them, but he would not stay. He looked out the dark, uncovered window. It overlooked the channel he had been following. Rotor pushed it open and dove out to the familiar waters below. There would be no rest for the weary this night.

Rotor carried on southwestward through a channel. Then, he turned southeastward and hugged the shoreline. Warmed by his first encounter with non-northern people, Rotor cautiously took to staying in the cities even though they did not speak the same language. He was fascinated by the variety of species and cultures of the people he met. There were wolf-like canines, lynx-like felines, porcupine-like creatures, various rodents and animals likely related to the caribou. There was even a creature unlike anything he had seen before, something called a salamander. He met farmers, soldiers, bakers, builders, robbers, slaves, and beggars. He helped out as he could just as the soldiers in the gritty city helped him, cutting wood, carrying loads, even freeing people in the dead of night who’d been captured by Eggman’s badniks. Every day he asked himself and the Lady “is this my destination? Can I stay here?” But always, the answer was no. And so, Rotor carried on. 

The shoreline swept west and there was another distinctive change in the culture of the seaside populations. Then the coastline turned due south again. A week later, the coast turned eastward again. He followed it to a narrow strait and spent the night on the northern shore. The Lady appeared faintly. Rotor was confused at first. If he was reading the constellations right, she was not motioning in a southerly direction, but in fact due east.

Rotor was astounded. She was in the east. For months and months, she had always been in the south, sometimes southeast or southwest, but always south. But something was different. Rotor could feel it in the air, in the electricity of the earth, in the warmer waters that gushed out of the strait, something was different. Rotor suspected his long journey was nearing the end.

Rotor passed through the very narrow straight. The waters immediately grew warm. Rotor welcomed the change from the frigid oceanic waters. He followed the southern shore along the edge of a mountainous desert landscape dotted with whitewashed cities. Again, the shoreside peoples were different than any he had met before. The Lady then led him northeast to an island and guided him to follow the shoreline as it angled first southeast then steeply northeast. Finally, she led him into open waters. A storm came up and disoriented Rotor. He struggled to swim against the strong currents and tall waves. Without the stars or the Lady, to guide him, he became disoriented and exhausted. Finally, he hooked his tusks on a log to keep him afloat and drifted where the sea pleased to take him.

Rotor awoke on a warm sandy beach with the inquisitive face of a young monkey child staring at him. The little girl jumped away when she saw he was awake and ran off chattering. A hoard of monkeys and otters returned and dragged him off the beach, through a beautiful white city, to what seemed to be a military barracks. He was questioned by a wildcat of some variety and an important-looking squirrel. Rotor told his story as best he could. The wildcat and the squirrel accepted his story and welcomed him to stay.

The people of the city were unusually excited. They had never seen a walrus, and hadn’t had a visitor in nine years. They were kind to him, gave him clothes and food and his own small bungalow that overlooked the bay. Rotor reluctantly accepted these gifts. He wasn’t sure what to think. Should he return to the sea and carry on? Or was this meant to be his destination? As if to answer, that night, the Lady reappeared one last time, as a very faint green glow directly above the city one last time. And Rotor knew, this was where he was meant to stay.

Rotor slowly recovered from his exhausting odyssey, body and mind. He enjoyed the heat of the early summer, the bright sun of the climate, and the brilliant colors of the city and gardens. He worked doing whatever he could to help the people of the Valley. He turned his technical talents toward peaceful purposes, helping build homes and repairing tools, and even making toys for the children of the valley. No more did he remember the icy north, the people he’d wronged, the mistakes of the past. It was as if he was reborn. Untainted by the bitterness and anger that once plagued him and drove his actions, Rotor was more himself than he had ever been before. Faithfully he served the people and the King as a mechanic and engineer for a long time.

Rotor lived in blissful peace, no longer remembering the troubles of his youth, and he was quite content with that.

But he knew, somewhere, in the depths of his heart of hearts, it was not to last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember, Dear Reader, sometimes you have to get a little lost on your way to being found. You WILL find your way. (Yes, that is a Frozen 2 reference.)
> 
> Victory! This is my very first, long, completed work ever. And this is only the beginning! Muhaha! I have many, many more stories running around in my head.
> 
> Check out Rotor in action along with Sonic the Hedgehog and the other Freedom Fighters in my other story, Rising Heroes!


End file.
